


Behind The Screen

by orphan_account



Category: Gorillaz
Genre: Abuse, Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - High School, Internet Friends, M/M, Noodle and 2D are related, One-Sided Attraction, Religion, Slow Burn, at least at first, homophobic parents, more tags will be added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-13
Updated: 2017-08-13
Packaged: 2018-12-14 21:55:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11792265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Murdoc Niccals is often viewed as a rat, scum from the lowest part of town with no future. His father drinks and smokes his days away, coming home only to abuse his own son. Writing is his only escape, and he's damn good at it. He's popular and well loved online, he's able to have what he can't have in real life.Stuart Pot is sort of slow, but his writing is where he can show his real intelligence. He seems to have a perfect life from the outside, rich parents, a healthy writing career ahead of him. But at school he is beaten and bullied, and from his parents he's forced to hide the fact that he's gay. Online, he can say what he wants without fear, even if not many read.Their relationship began with one message.





	Behind The Screen

Stuart Pot was never quite the brightest crayon in the box when it came to most things. Ever since the first day his azure blue hair crossed the threshold into Saint Mary's Catholic school he had known this. It would be hard not to, since the teachers and nuns were so insistent on telling him so. This was his eternal prison for the next twelve years, day in and day out. An eternal, stuffy prison for rich kids.

Despite that, Stuart knew he could write, so he wrote. It was like an escape in a way. One where he wasn't confined to what his parents or his peers imposed upon him. 

He wrote poetry, mainly. Poetry didn't always have to flow or make sense, and when he read over it would dance through his head like a song, like the hymns he sang in mass, except he was interested in it instead of boringly droning along. 

This form of escape was particularly helpful in his current situation. His fingers typed hurriedly at the keyboard of his laptop, the back of which was covered in colorful stickers, contrasting the stark white of the uncomfortable sheets. The taps and clicks were completely out of beat with the heart monitor at Stuart's side.

Visitor hours hadn't begun yet, and he was left all alone in the hospital room, blanketed with the disgusting smell of chemicals. Right now what he worked at was not any sort of poetry, but an attempt to recall how exactly he had gotten where he was. The nurse who had walked in fifteen minutes ago had recommended he did so, since he had so many questions. She had told him his brain may be holding the answers somehow.

Stuart's brain felt more clouded and foggy than ever as he pulled his fingers back from the keys to read what he had so far. 

'I was at the front counter of the keyboard shop, signing off on a delivery and amiably chattering with the deliverymen next to me. The one with the black hair particularly, the one who looked about my age. The next thing I know I hear a loud screeching of tires and look up, seeing an out of control car speeding straight through the window. A painful jolt was suddenly sent straight through my head and everything went dark.'

Stu sat back on the hard pillows of his bed, unsure if he should end off there or not. He didn't know anything past that, and even what he had was cloudy. All he knew was that it had been two weeks he was trapped in his own head by a coma. Nobody even seemed to want to tell him why he was still in the hospital now.

That's when it occurred to him that nobody would show up for a good 40 minutes. He shut his laptop, setting it beside him on the scratchy sheets. Stuart swung his lanky legs over the side of the bed, stretching his arms slowly then finally letting his bare feet touch the cold floor. He wrapped his hand around the metal of the IV stand, wheeling it after him.

Every single step uncovered a new ache in his joints. Stuart's features contorting in pain with each one. He kept on moving anyways until he reached the bathroom. He carefully dragged the IV stand in then shut the door. Then he turned and looked into the reflective surface of the mirror. 

Two black, red-tinted orbs widened and stared back. A noise like a scream echoed around the tiled room. It took him a second to register that it came from the black eyed, toothless boy in the mirror. It came from him. He felt queasy looking at it, lightheaded and dizzy. Lightheaded. Was he falling?

•••••••••

When he finally woke up there were two figures at his bedside, chattering in the uncomfortable, plastic chairs that lined his room. He blinked, sitting up and bringing his hands together at his front to thread his fingers together. He waited silently for them to notice.

The moment the green eyes of a younger Asian girl in a Saint Mary's uniform saw Stuart a smile broke out across her features. "Stuart!" She said happily, running over and enveloping him in a tight hug. Almost as if she was scared he was going to go back into the coma any second. 

Kyuzo. Kyuzo was here and he was so glad for it. Stuart hugged her back, a smile gracing his face too and tears wetting his eyes. "Noodle!" He said happily, calling her by the nickname she tended to go by. 

Noodle was Stuart's younger sister. Adoptive, of course, they looked nothing alike. His parents had adopted Noodle when Stu was 12, 6 years ago. She was only 5, an orphan from Japan who barely spoke a lick of English. Stu had always wanted a younger sibling, and he was happy to finally have one, even if he always suspected his parents were stroking their own ego by adopting her, trying to show how kind and accepting they really were or something of the sort. They were as close as real siblings either way.

Stuart had barely even noticed his friend Russel in the room, since he was preoccupied with his, now crying, sibling. He smiled at Russ, motioning over and leaving one arm wrapped around Noodle in a hug.

Russel was tall and bulky, wearing regular clothing as opposed to a uniform. He'd be almost intimidating based off just appearance, but he was really a gentle giant. He scooted his plastic chair closer to the hospital bed with a screech, smiling softly at Stu. "It's nice to see you again. I was worried, man. Thought you'd never wake up."

Russel was one of his first friends in school, the only one who dared to approach the kid that always got in trouble for spacing out. He'd been his best friend ever since, mild mannered and always willing to listen to Stuart's issues. Last year he'd been expelled from Saint Mary's for a supposed 'demonic possession.' Stuart hadn't heard any more on that story, or why the school thought that, but now he attended the local public school. It wasn't an issue for their friendship though, they'd always been and always would be close. 

 

Stuart reached across, wrapping an arm around Russel and pulling him into a hug. "Sorry ta worry you both." He said, a smile coming across his face. Now that he thought about it he'd missed them so much, even if he wasn't conscious. 

They were his support system more than even his parents. He could tell them more, and they would stick up for him when things got tough. Stuart felt so lucky. Lucky to have them.

••••••

After a series of questions and answers and catching one another up on things he was forced to bid farewell to them. School was starting soon for both of them, and Russ had promised to drop off noodle before driving to his own school, so it would take significantly longer.

"Promise you'll be back this afternoon?" Stuart asked, shifting his laptop back onto his lap as he watched them grab their backpacks and prepare to leave. He didn't want to be alone at all, but he also didn't want to hold them back. Especially Noodle. He knew how angry his parents would be if she was late or skipped school altogether.

"Promise." Russel said, smiling sincerely and nodding. He shrugged his own heavy backpack over his shoulder, carrying Noodle's in his other hand. 

Noodle ran over, giving Stuart one last hug before walking to the door to meet Russ. "Bye!" She exclaimed, the door shutting heavily and leaving Stuart alone in complete silence. 

He sighed heavily, rubbing his eye then redirecting his gaze to the laptop in his lap. He opened it, clicking to open a new tab. 

One more thing about Stuart, he used to Internet to escape too. That's where he published all of his writing and received feedback. That's where he could say anything and everything he wanted and his parents wouldn't know. He had some fans, but he wasn't too well known for his work. That didn't matter to him though. He wasn't seeking fame, just an ear to listen.

Stuart looked through the comments on his last published story, being sure to respond to every comment. It seemed only polite. He only ceased when he heard a ping, meaning that someone had messaged him. He clicked the notification and his black eyes scanned the message.

'Your work is absolutely amazing. It conveys so much emotion and kind of reads like a song, you know. I think it might actually sound nice if you tried to work it into something like that. Anyways, I'm a big fan. Keep doing what you're doing.'

Stuart smiled lightly, his fingers hovering over the keyboard to quickly type a response.

'Thank you so much! I'm really glad you enjoy it :) It means a whole lot when people directly message me about my work. It's also just nice to interact with my readers.'

Stu hit enter, sending the message before his eyes finally glanced up to read the username, which he probably should have done initially. That's when his heart started to pound his face flushed. Why would someone like him take their time to leave a message about his amateur work? How did he find any of it to to begin with? His writing was a billion times more popular and formal then his.  
This was one of his inspirations in writing, his idol.  
Murdoc Niccals.

**Author's Note:**

> This is only Stuart's perspective, the next chapter will have Murdoc's view ^^  
> I hope you're all enjoying it so far! I'll try to get the next chapter out soon as possible.


End file.
